Scarlet Blade: Record of Golden Wings
by Deposing Soldier
Summary: Based on the controversial MMORPG Queens Blade (Korean title) / Scarlet Blade (Global title). Enter a world of humans, Arkana and alien lifeforms as in the midst of a civil war despite undergoing global recovery of infrastructure, a plot in the shadows threatens to call down the very beings that nearly destroyed planet Earth: Narak.


**Wow, I did NOT expect there to be anyone who would favourite this story. Originally, this story was posted in an Aeria Games forum thread (www aeriagames com / forums / en / viewtopic . php?t=1955353) , and hosted in LiveJournal, which contained all the format I intended to display. For some inexplicable reason, fan friction dot net and its primitive HTML wrap-around reduced all my formatting to smithereens, resulting in a mediocre reading experience.**

**But I do thank ANYONE and everyone who read this. I appreciate your views, and I'd like to encourage you to look at where this story was originally hosted. It's up to chapter 20, but I haven't got this up to speed because trying to reformat my own hard work is painstaking and not a priority. Up until now, I cannot replicate my intended formatting right here.**

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DISCLAIMER:

Before reading this story, you must be warned and aware that this story contains elements of sexism and double standards in genders. There will also be some amount of offensive activities such as drug use, alcohol ingestion and sexual activities. The author will not bear any responsibility whatsoever if any reader ignores this disclaimer and gets discomforted, mentally ill, or offended from further reading. The author will also not be liable for any charges, since this is a completely original work, not copied from another source or authorship.

Please do not circulate the writings and profit from it without permission from the author. Any actual occurence in real life identical to the writings below are purely coincidental and unwanted by the author to begin with. Characters appearing in the writings are not identical to original sources.

This is a fan-based penwork inspired by Scarlet Blade(TM) (courtesy of Aeria Games / Liveplex) . Any inspiration sparked by the writings below are not responsibilities of the author. As readers, you have the right to remain silent upon reading, and give feedbacks in an allowed fashion. To adapt the work into other forms and or other mediums, please notify the author before doing so. Thank you for keeping this disclaimer in mind as you read on.

(since this is a warmup chapter, some of the explicit warnings are not applied here)

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Fading in from black

Inside a ward room with white ceiling, a man could be seen lying on one of the beds, tucked in sheets and sleeping without a trace of consciousness. Next to him was a heartbeat and pulse checker. A woman then entered the room, attending to him, wearing a nurse cap with a white cross in red circle stitched onto it, her dress white and split so flamboyantly open it revealed the canyon of her bosom from upper to lower chest, miraculously not splitting any further. Apart from such a dress, the skirt seemed to be made out of several splits of rectangular fabric, with neon glow along their edges. Her shapely feet with medium heeled shoes stopped to bend as she sat down on a chair next to the man.

"Hmmm, temperature and heart rate, nominal..." The woman spoke to herself as she took up a digital tablet and made some edits, "Sleeping soundly hmm? It's been 4 hours after all..."

Then, the man began to open his eyelids to look at the source of the voice. The nurse, barring the revealing dress, had another eye-catching feature: her neatly tied white hair.

"I...I'm alive?" The man asked, looking rugged with a scar on his lower right chin and crew cut brown hair on his head.

"Of course you are. This is the ordained ICU after all. We're expected to have consistently high quality of service." The nurse smiled.

"So... I survived another brain surgery..." The man smiled wryly, "They don't call you Lucia the Resurrector for nothing..."

"Please stop with that nickname, I don't go by that anymore..." Lucia the nurse shook her head, "If you're still feeling lightheaded, feel free to sleep in. You've just been chosen after all, and I doubt there's a sufficiently trained Arkana ready for your command just yet, Mr. Winefield."

"You think so?... That puts me at ease. I hate being late first day at work." Winefield chuckled.

"You did give us all a harder time than most however. We never had to rig and implant within an already encased brain before. You're our first case and the hardest implant yet." Lucia frowned.

"That so? Sorry..." Winefield suddenly winced from pain as he jerked his head back, "Nggrk..."

"Oh... are you relapsing?" Lucia asked concerningly.

"Don't know. Maybe it's the new metal rejection. I was told these things need time to be accepted." Winefield rubbed the back of his head.

"True. I will perscribe you some Gliozynes. For now I have to go look at others who just had implants as well." Lucia rose from the chair and began to make her leave.

Left alone in the sick bed, Winefield spent his next split seconds of his eyesight catching Lucia's wonderfully shaped body's rear. The loose red rectangular shawls of her dress outlining the wellness of the back, and the shortness of the skirt somehow capturing the roundness of the buttocks from going all out. To him, it might as well be a view into heaven's angel bathing pool if the concept of religion ever existed.

"Humans, women, Arkana, Narak... This world has become such a bother..." Winefield groaned to himself before closing his eyes.

**SCARLET **_S_ **BLADE**  
Record of Golden Wings

Chapter 00-A : The man with an augmented mind

10 years before Winefield was in the sick bed...

A brown haired woman with a long braid, dressed in a low cut tube top and a miniskirt despite being in late fourties, both white in color. Her figure was well kept, and only served to make the appearing man more out of touch, who looked haggard and thrifty, clad in thick green pants and a butcher's vest. Both weren't bad looking. If anything, they were rather endowed with looks to begin with. During the time, Winefield was younger as he was 16 years old, and he was coming home through the metal barrier door which slided open for him.

"Mom, dad, I'm home." Winefield came in with his bag on his back.

"Welcome back son. I trust the tests weren't too demanding?" The father asked, looking at a holographic newsfeed from his worktable.

"No, it wasn't too hard. Provided challenge, of course, but nothing I couldn't handle." Winefield smiled confidently as he tossed his bag aside.

"Isn't that good news, Graham?" The mother spoke with a British accent, "You did your best, and with the looks of your grades thus far, I'm saying you have a high chance of being a certified author."

"There are obstacles ahead before that, mom. I just hope there's enough time before war comes down, and we all have money to move away this land." Graham spoke with worry.

Suddenly, the father slammed on the table, almost sending sips of water spilling out of the cup next to a bunch of data chips. "Dammit!"

"Wh-what's wrong darling?" The mother turned her head at him.

"Stardust injections have increased prices yet again... How much do they plan to strangle our supplies?!" The father grumbled.

"Oh darling... There's nothing we can do about it legally. Let it rest and don't put so much strain on your body already." The mother comforted.

"It's just so vexing, I can't help but vent." The father drank from the cup.

"I'd be feeling the same way if I were his age." Graham added, "Nemesis is smack dab in the middle of Royal Guards and Free Knights squabble, of course they're gonna make it hard for us to get Stardust. If we can't move, at least I'll try writing both sides into stop fighting. It's just so senseless..."

"Speaking of which, I believe the time has come for me to entrust you with something. Come with me." The father stood up and went to his room, with Graham following him. It was a master room with a double bed, and around it were the basic dressing table, mirror and a wardrobe closet. Inside the closet were clothes and a metal safe that required fingerprint scanning to be opened besides a 4 numbered passcode in a 16-keyed keypad, which change numbers each time pressed. When the safe was opened, Graham wasn't sure what to feel, for he saw something that would definitely count as a weapon.

"My son, you are born naturally and you deserve a means to protect yourself. When I was inside Mother's cloning tank, I was given visions that this planet was suffering from alien invasion not of our calibre to fend off. I was taught of how wonderful the world was when it was so simple despite its flaws. That there were so many kinds and likes of people was enough to create both trouble and triumph, and that there were cultures, nations and causes, so many forms of lifestyles to choose from."

After Graham's father spoke those words, he put a shiny silver large caliber revolver on Graham's right palm. A Smith and Wesson M500 to be precise.

"Wisdom cannot be ingrained digitally or chemically. We humans were gifted with the ability to think for ourselves, and in order to protect those thoughts, sometimes it's necessary to use force. Only wisdom can help you understand when and why to use force. This gun is a powerful force in itself, and a fragment of the previous humanity's triumphs."

"But... I don't think I'm ready for this. I'm not cut out for killing people. No matter how much you want Stardust prices to drop this... this isn't the answer!" Graham shook nervously and held the barrel of the revolver detestedly.

"THIS isn't about Stardust, son!" The father placed his hands on Graham's shoulders, "Ask yourself. Why do humans have to fight each other when we have lingering poison in the air and skies? Why were Arkana created just so they can be used to carry out those ugly reasons? What I'm giving you is a weapon, but like any force, it's how you use it that counts. At this rate it's better to afford your dose of injections than mine, and who better to give this gun than to you?"

"Dad, don't say such things! It's like a parting gift or something. I don't want you to die!" Graham shuddered and tried to take his father's hands off of him.

"I don't want you to die even more! I'm not about to rob a bank or the like, but consider this your preparation for one of life's eventualities." The father looked sternly into Graham's eyes, "Every ordinary living being has to undergo four phases: living, aging, sickness and death. Sooner or later, me and your sweet mom will have to part from this world and join the others during the invasion. In case we're not there for you, at least this would be by your side to remind you of me."

Graham's eyes began to swell in tears, "I don't want to think about that... I really don't but... We've been through so much together..."

"Believe me, I was crying like you are too when my father gave me this gun." The father gave a pained smile, "Times were relatively stable then, but this is now. With the whole fuss between two sides tearing each other over what to do with Arkana after they live through their purpose? I don't want to leave it to chance when it comes to your survival."

"I... I understand..." Graham sobbed.

"I've given you the first push, so you'll walk the path the rest of the way on your own. With the prices going up, the local community will be forced to pick a side, and when that happens, crossfire will take place. No matter which side you'll end up, don't become a drone to either's ideologies. Remember what you want to author, and the things you've liked that survived the invasion. All that anime, literature, all the good stuff." The father patted on Graham's head.

"I promise. As a man to his father." Graham nodded.

"Now, there's no legal way to fire this gun, so I'm just going to teach you orally. Hold the grip with both your hands, and pull the trigger only when you hold it firm. This relic only has 5 shots, and you must empty the blanks after fire, with the cartridge popper located near your thumb. The bullets are hard to procure, so only use it when the time comes. When you do, the recoil will be so strong, it should end up at the front of your forehead at your age so tone up your muscles to fire it better. The sight point should be obvious enough." The father taught the basics with given finger pointings, as Graham held the revolver steadily, looking into the distance.

"I think I will manage." Graham nodded, "Lift up the hammer pin to roll another round before firing, right?"

"You got it. Here's all of your ammo." The father showed the contents of the safe, which were the maintenance kit and a box full of the dreadfully large point 500 bullets.

Two days after that day, Graham was having the gun hidden in his pocket, when every sign of peace in the town came collapsing down into chaos. Fires were everywhere due to indiscriminate bombing as soon as evacuation orders were rushed out from jeeps. Graham was still a distance from home, but he already had to run in a different direction.

"Those aren't ordinary fires!"

"They're Chakra fires, aren't they? The Arkana are behind this? But whose?"

Graham could hear other evacuees trying to assess the situation around them, but they made little to no sense. Why would Arkana be in Nemesis of all places? What's important to him was he had to detour back home as soon as possible. However, he was soon blocked by an explosion. One not of flames, but from sheer explosives. It caught several people in its blast radius, brutally killing men and women with organ ruptures and heavily bleeding lacerations. All that red pouring from the victims, it made Graham choke and shudder.

"Hurry, this way! We need to secure this town and stop the Guards from advancing!" A black armored male soldier shouted, holding a large machine gun, running to Graham's direction while being followed by several others. The sight of them sent Graham running away from them.

"Move move move! Stay behind the drones and push forward, watch out for possible enemy Arkana!" Five men wearing round and bulky silver colored Powered Armor, which were protection units encasing every part of the body except for the head, came running when rolling drones were rolling on the street in perfectly straight lines.

With no place to run, he turned to the alley where he could use the garbage dump to jump past the wooden barricade. For a town that bordered on being suburban, it left broader places to escape out of pure fear. Fear that one could die at any moment in a merciless hail of crossfire and bombing.

"Graham! You're alright!" His mother called out to him, "Please, this way!"

"Mom?! Dad too?" Graham called out in surprise.

"It's time for us to hightail. We already lost our home." His father gestured for Graham to come over.

As the three of them ran, they were getting closer and closer to the wilderness, not knowing that they were approaching closer and closer to a makeshift Royal Guards encampment. They were also not expecting that the stray mortar fire was getting rampant, with Graham's father being hit first as his body shouldered the other two from the worst of the impact had to offer. Graham had to watch his father die a brutal death, as the left of his face and the left half of his body got torn apart by the fragmentation.

"Dad, nooooo!" Graham screamed frantically.

"Graham, we have to move, now!" His mother urged him and dragged his arm away from the view of his fallen father.

"Mom, why did all of this have to happen? Why aren't we fighting against the damn aliens?" Graham cried as he ran with his mother.

"I don't know, but there's always something about war having more than two sides..." The mother answered softly, "I personally have no preference towards either agenda, but back in the age of my parents, such a rift wouldn't be wedged so deep. Someone or some group must be behind this."

"Dad's gone... how will things be when it's just the two of us?" Graham ran on.

"We have to get away first." The mother answered calmly while still carrying on. Then they came across some silver armored soldiers. "Please let us through! My husband just got killed in an explosion, and we want to evacuate past the blockade..."

"That won't be a problem. You escort these two civillians out of here and take care of them." One of the soldiers ordered his subordinate.

"Alright." But before he could take the two of them even 10 steps away behind them, gunfire began to take place. "Enemy fire, enemy fire!" With the soldier firing back at the direction, he did his best to cover for the two, "Just continue along this direction and you should reach our camp. Good luck!"

While the two of them ran on, suddenly they got caught on by Free Knights UAV in the sky, which looked like a 21st century Predator drone. It identified Graham and his mother as hostile and launched a missile. While it missed, the missile did hit a building and sealed the alleyway behind them. Then the next missile was ready to be fired at them from above while they were getting so close to their goal. A woman held a rifle about her own size just jumped up on top of a building and shot the drone with the two of them noticing it, but despite the drone going into flames and pieces, the missile was fired. And the lock on was focused on Graham's mother.

By instinct, the mother slowed herself down, and the explosive impact vaporized her entire being while sending Graham a few feet away when he was turning around to see why his mother seemed to slow down. He was flipping in mid air, and by all unfortunate means, he landed with the back of his skull down on the hard rocky ground. The last thing he held dearly before going unconscious was the revolver his father gave him, and the last thing he saw before his vision blurred into tears was the sight of a darkly clad woman in a bodysuit.

4 years before Graham Winefield was in sickbed...

6 years had passed since the loss of his parents. Orphaned and alone without other friends from his last school, he had been situated in eastern Chromia to continue his living. After working as a janitor for various places in different shifts, he saved up money while moving up the social circles and made some connections. He had to pay back the ones who saved his skull: the Royal Guards faction. If there's any way to end the war that claimed his parents' lives, then being amongst the military would help him set his agenda in place. One not of vengeance, but of deliverance of more people from the similar fate as his. He couldn't take living a silent life lying down. Not after what happened at least.

Living in a place where one faction's influence was concentrated also opened his visions in a way. In eastern Chromia, the military are to be respected, and their acts must not deviate from rules and regulations in return. It was openly announced that Free Knights held their ideaology in contempt and tried to somehow end the important connection between human commanders and Arkana. Proof being that Free Knights had been spotted crossing the borders from time to time, starting with Mereholt, a top priority nuclear environment rehabitation land that was constantly in nuclear winter because of concentrated nuclear weapons usage in the past around the area.

And finally the day had come for him to apply as a military cadet, and he was wearing a blue janitor uniform when he approached the gates to barracks. The most of the base was not at the surface of the planet however, for when all health reasons were considered, it would have to be located underground.

At this point, it is important to know of 3 key terminologies. The Ark, Arkana and Narak. Once a point in early 22nd century AD, Earth's surface and its world fell into complete disarray when armies of aliens in gigantic scale and individual size came down and razed cities, leaving innocent people to die at a rate of thousands per second. Faced with undefeatable enemies such as these dubbed Narak, humans used the only method of mass destruction they knew to fear : nuclear force. After consequent launches, although the Narak were killed, some laid dormant while the rest of the surface was doomed to long stretches of nuclear winter and persistent toxic radiations. Humanity was on its path to extinction, if not for a backup plan.

That plan came in the form of Genesis Corporation's years-long humanity preservation project, known as the Ark Project. There were only two Arks, and they only housed genetic samples for splicing, and basic data to continue a barely functional society. The idea was to set off a time-delayed cloning sequence, so that the Narak which were sufficient in tracking down living beings couldn't find the Arks, though it also meant that the new and cloned generation would never have a single ancestor alive. But the Arks' purpose wasn't to preserve the existence of humanity alone, for in order to defeat such gigantic enemies employing fearsome power born from their life force, humanity would also need individuals capable of harnessing such power as well. That equivalent is Chakra.

Derived from Hindu study of life force flow within the body, Chakra is an art poorly misunderstood by Western science, much like Chinese pressure points and Chinese medicine, which were both poorly studied due to incompatible knowledge values with the West. As much as the future humanity would desperately need such knowledges, they would have to make do with what they have. The individuals who could ever harness such Chakra, are called Arkana. Half of their name being the Ark, they are appropriately the Arks' children, not born with natural means at all. A race of genetically engineered women and cybernetically enhanced to a T, the Arkana could control Chakra in ways humans could only dream of, or at worst, fear of. They were the ultimate design of humanity's defense against Narak, for they were meant to resist radiation, survive more traumatic damages and fight with ingrained skills which were tailored to their weapons.

One might thought that such a plan would've ended well, but in truth it was not for long. It had been around a hundred years after the first batch of clones came from the Arks before two of them began splitting apart over ideological differences. This event would be when the conflict began to stem, as originally, both Arks were overseen by a single AI program named Mother. As the people who began to reject the idea that Arkana were to be living weapons for all their lifetime, their sense of pity for the Arkana drove them to become Mother's distant enemies, and thus Arkana too had been split between both factions. The Royal Guards for those who adhere to the originally intended purposes, and the Free Knights for those who sought a more turbulent and potentially rewarding futures.

One question remains: why must females of this post apocalyptic era had to dress to impress or seduce?

By Mother's design, since the amount of humans needed to take back the surface had to match about that of a megacity, the new culture had to be one which could provoke male and female companionship and invoke eventual procreation. The design was also a makeshift method in blending humans and Arkana so the latter could be descriminated less than they already had been.

At least for Graham Winefield and about 50% of the human males that were surviving in such radiation-ridden planet, such flamboyant displays could only strike them as commonplace and even appropriate, rather than invasively provocative. There wouldn't even be an erection over seeing a lady with very low cut outfits, unless more than the visual cues were struck for a male individual.

When Graham reached the receptionist (who was a man like him), the latter was looking at Graham's janitor outfit rather suspiciously as he handled Graham's application forms and other handwritten data.

"Are you sure you're not applying for vacant janitor shifts?" The receptionist asked Graham.

"Janitors can wipe the battlefield better than anyone else who never tried to clean their homes." Graham snarled.

To that, the receptionist gave the forms back to Graham nervously, "Just go there and turn right, and wait in Test Room."

The Test Room was just a simple classroom of sorts, with chairs and tables aligned neatly in rows. It would be safe to say that besides Graham, there was no one else who showed up in janitor uniforms. As if they were waiting for him, the others were all seated only to look at him oddly like he's the wrong piece in the puzzle. The person next to him was a young woman nearly his age, who had uneven splits of orange hair, spiky yet soft, tied into a single shrub on the back of her head. She was detached sleeves which matched her transparent outfit and pants, showing opaque pink underwears which more or less pushed up the value of her chest.

"Good day everyone. I'm not here with a broom and mop, because I'm not actually a working janitor here." Graham commented to everyone's humor.

"Hey, this guy is the bomb. He's coming to clean up or something?" One of the applicants murmured.

"At least he's not going to stand a chance of getting in our way..." Another responded.

The girl next to Graham whispered to him, "Didn't you have better clothes to wear?"

Graham opened his mouth for a couple of seconds, tilting his head toward hers before answering, "I spent everything on this exam. No, I don't have other clothes. Been a janitor all my life."

The girl winced and shot him a surprised look before looking back to her own table, "Uh, ok... Must be desperate huh."

"Maybe all my life was pushing it. I could've graduated but then my parents got blown to bits in South Chromia. Screwed up life real bad." Graham added.

"I see. Sorry." The girl gulped nervously.

"No biggie. Not your fault." Graham shook his head nonchalantly.

In the next moments, a ranking officer came into the room and explained to everyone the bare basics of being the human component in the effort of life against Narak and Free Knights. Including Graham, all 24 applicants for the day were to register as recruits and be tested physically and mentally through a series of courses to be assessed on qualification. The mental courses would take place in different testing rooms to avoid cheating, while the physical courses would be at the underground maintenance shafts where narrowness and unpredictability were rife. First, they all had to be issued the identifications, starting from biometric data gathering, head portrait photo shooting and retinal scanning. The results of those were to be compressed into encrypted datas for stamping their personal passcards. Such a process would take a day already, so the next day was the time to get the uniforms while all the applicants were allowed to stay in temporary shelter rooms for the night.

The uniforms for males were simple: grey colored drabs of shirts and pants. But the version for females would make 21st century humans cringe and wonder if it were used for fetish plays: detached sleeves with a chestless cut at the front of the shirt and a couple of straps to censor where the nipples would be, while the straps extend down to the bloomers and stockings.

Even though Graham was no longer in janitor clothes, it didn't help his already cemented image of being a janitor in everyone's minds. But the exercise was quick to change that. In terms of physical ability, Graham came toe to toe against 5 of more toned up men when it came to tire-dragging running, obstacle courses, water blowing and laser aiming while the others we're looking so hot. Shouldn't come as a surprise, since every human in the world were more or less affected by the lingering radiation in the air that happened hundreds of years ago. The only way to supress such damages to the human body was through Stardust, an aptly named substance which glitters and has both medical and material uses.

The day after the physical tests came some pop quiz tests, which had no relation to then-era pop culture. Instead, some questions were laced with references to pre-apocalyptic media, one of Graham's strong points. There were also math, geometry, accounting and physics, all done in the form of fibre-optic sheets which could be 'written' with styluses, negating the use of actual paper. When the results were out, Graham was among the remaining 12 who got selected as cadets.

The next day, the orange haired girl came knocking on Graham's door...

"Hey, you there?" The girl asked.

Graham opened the door and stood at the doorstep, "Oh, Arril, it's you."

"Is it true you had a skull casing and have a biochip in your brain on top?" Arril asked with a serious expression on her face.

"Yeah. Why are you asking me that?" Graham asked.

"Well, I heard it from somewhere that the inspection is going to hold you back unless they can determine you're not cheating." Arril answered doubtingly.

"It was only an ER measure, not enhancement implants." Graham added.

"I believe you, but just saying you should be careful of other people now. They all think you're a cheater or something now." Arril warned warily.

"I guess this means they'll be giving me a hard time huh? Thank you for the caution sign, because I'm gonna go clean up the construction site." Graham walked back into his room.

"I hope you know what you're doing. I won't be surprised if they start giving you harder tests." Arril frowned.

"Don't worry about it. What's the worst that can possibly happen?" Graham chuckled while he was washing his face to prepare himself for the morning.

Later, Arril's fears had come to pass, when Graham was surrounded by other applicants inside the Test Room where they all would be attending to another writing test. The atmosphere was intense and on the brink of breaking out into a brawl.

"You got a hangover so bad you had to swap your brain out or something?" A man taller than Graham stood in front of him, looking down to his face like a bouncer with a scowl, "I bet you had shiny enhancements to trick you out so you can score better than us in the end. You just didn't want to show it all so soon."

"With all due respect, did YOU have enhancements or something? I exercise under the sun everyday, risking radiation exposure and clean the dirtiest things everyday." Graham smirked, "AND, you ran a second faster than me."

"Surely we cannot discount the possibility of you having memory chips in your head, huh?" Another guy, relatively thinner, spoke out smugly, "Who the fuck watches those prehistoric junk? Yet you got all those answers correct."

"Oh, I see what this is all about." Graham laughed, "You all wanna band up and kill the competition 'cause I have a reason for your excuse huh? How about this, if I fail the exam, you all can just merry along and I'll take the next exam, hopefully I'll be out of your faces."

"Shut the fuck up, chrome brain!" The tall man punched Graham squarely in his right face, "Seems like this prick's got fuckin' hot oral enhancements to talk back at us. Doesn't even bother trying to prove us wrong and all that." Then the man held up a butterfly knife and flicked it open. That was when Graham started to drop his cool, and brought on the heat as he unleashed a flurry of punches and sent the man down as others soon came to grab him. Graham groaned and tugged around, trying to lose the others, and even went so far to step on their feet. It didn't take long for the room's desks and chairs to be scattered about by the falling assailants.

But eventually, being outnumbered did lead to one inevitable outcome. Graham's arms and feet were grabbed on tight by 4 other applicants, and the man with the butterfly knife approached Graham. With a powerful grip he clenched Graham's jaw, and placed the knife on his right chin, cutting deeper and deeper until a gunshot came from the doorstep.

"EVERYONE PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!"

A woman with short black hair wearing red and white shirt came in with a 9mm handgun in her hand. Behind her was Arril who reported on the situation.

As Graham was let go, he turned around to show her his blood-dripping chin. The woman spent no more time than needed to speak one thing loudly, "The 6 of you, as of now you are permanently banned from the premises. You, put down the knife and then follow me to the penitentiary. The rest of you are on warning."

"This prick was cheating!" The tall man argued.

The woman opened another fire at the floor, "I SAID DROP IT!"

After the woman got everyone walking along to their respective arrangements, be they permanently banned or on the way to the infirmary, she introduced herself within, "We got off on a loud start, but I am the base's Weapons Major, Vera. Someone apparently overheard the conversation from the faculty about Winefield's past, and misinterpreted as us allowing a human plus to compete among normal people. I hope I'm getting your attention now that such misunderstandings will be a defeat for all of us when in the battlefield. Do I make myself clear?"

Except for Graham, who didn't need to answer the question since he was being injected with anti-Tetanus and had his cut sutured by a nurse at another corner, the others all nodded.

Vera continued on, "Winefield had a special case. Several years ago we picked him up from south of Viledon when a battle against Free Knights damaged a settlement. He was one of the victims, and he freshed out of his birth parents. An explosion sent him to the rocky ground with one of the rocks going into his head. If he did have enhancements he wouldn't have been with you to begin with. We were the ones who operated on him, and he had to end his education because of brain damage recuperation. Consider any of you ashamed for accusing him."

"I didn't accuse him. If anything, I was the one who heard from him he lost his parents and I made the connection there." Arril responded.

"He's lucky to have you blurbing. The first thing we don't need is another operation on his delicate head. He will be tested along with you all tomorrow. I do not want such a thing happening again, alright?" Vera asked.

"Yes ma'am." They all answered.

Arril was wearing large round eyeglasses and her hair was tied in a white ribbon. She wore a white pair of shoulder-linked sleeves which covered the red uppercut top which barely contained her areolae, while her hips were adorned in a matching red miniskirt and her feet clad in low heeled shoes. Her fingers were covered in latex white fingerwraps, which she used to touch on Graham's forehead gently when he's on the sickbed.

"Boo!" Graham's eyes suddenly opened to scare her.

"You meanie!" Arril clenched her teeth and slapped him on his left cheek.

"Hahaha...Have time?" Graham asked with a smile.

"Not really. Just wanna say congratulations for being chosen as Commander 3rd Class." Arril pouted.

"Really? That ain't a congratulations face to me. Oh what am I saying, I was trying to scare you." Graham laughed.

"I really hope your Arkana's going to be one who can stand you." Arril prodded Graham's forehead with her pointing finger.

"Keep on hoping. I don't mind what kind of an Arkana I can command, as long as she can listen to my orders and get the job done." Graham smiled, suddenly going into a frown, "What in the..."

In Graham's eyes, he could see HUD with his vision, essentially having mixed reality at play in his mind, "Are all Commanders required to have MR visuals? I can even see your name popping up under your nerdy face."

"That's actually what I'm here to verify too. With the MR visuals, you can identify any Arkana by looking at her. If unidentified, that should mean the wavelengths are not Lota's products and most likely belong to Free Knights. There are also some limited wireless functions Commanders can use, but I'll go through them slowly..." Arril explained.

"Are you going to be my assistant or something?" Graham asked.

"You wish, but the higher ups might consider it~" Arril teased.

"It would be great if you are. You saved me back then." Graham reached down to the revolver hidden in his right pocket.

"I don't know if I can save you again, but feel free. We're friends." Arril tossed Graham a coy look before turning away.

As Graham watched the lights in the ceiling and touched on his own scar, he wondered about one thing...

"Mom, dad, how's everyone before the apocalypse? Hope they're fun for you. I'm gonna make this world just as fun, as soon as the mess is cleaned up."

The End of Chapter 00-A

Next up: Chapter 00-B: Defender without a cause


End file.
